Buttercup Vs The New World Order
by Dirk-Steadfast
Summary: Times are changing and Buttercup has to get with it or get swept aside. She is outnumbered by her enemies. Her allies can't be trusted. And worst of all, she's out of practice! She'll have to join forces with the unlikeliest (though unsurprising) people if she wants to have any hope of restoring order.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: It has been a spell since I wrote for PPG. But I haven't had this much fun with fanfiction in a long time. I want to throw out a special thanks to Sandstorm3D, who's story, "A Vendetta To Be Paid" is what inspired me to write another one of these. Hopefully you read. Hopefully you enjoy. **

Buttercup Vs The New World Order

Chapter 1

There was a storm approaching.

What that meant nobody knew. Not even the meteorologists.

_Especially _the meteorologists, seeing as it was a metaphorical storm of which I speak.

Nobody knew what it meant, but they could all feel it encroaching. A thick, still static weighing down everything. Families could feel it in their stomachs. Businesses saw it push all around and down on them. Students let it weave into their "ironic" observations. It united all of them. People who had never before met. Never before spoken with one another. All of them were becoming of one mind.

Things were about to change.

It would be drastic. It would be deadly. It would be soon.

# # #

The wind was bouncing off the windscreen, dropping back into her hair, forcing the black mess into a constant and changing state of explosion. The miles of road behind her served as a reminder of the fights it had already gone through on this journey.

She had entered Colorado from the pan handle of Oklahoma four days ago. She had taken her time traveling up to Colorado Springs, where she left from this morning. But now she wanted to get to Denver as fast as possible. She was already about halfway there.

Her little cream colored Veedub Cabriolet had been running like an Olympian ever since she had bought it down in Texas. She got it used from a nice old lady who had hardly ever driven it. It had a few scratches in it, a dent or two in the rims and foggy headlamps, not to mention that hideous color, but it still had the original 1980's engine for a heart. All it needed was a bit of love. And she had plenty of that to give.

Thirty or so miles until Denver city proper. She would stop there for the day, take in some urban culture, then move ever onward to Rocky Mountain park where, hopefully, she would be able to lay down some serious tracks in the snow.

Her spirits were high. Probably because of the lovely weather. There were a few dangerous looking storm clouds in the direction she was heading, but where she was right now the sun was high and bright.

She laughed out loud. Her radio blasting loud enough to be heard over the wind. She screamed along with the song, "_I'm! A! High! Way! Star!_" Then she continued laughing down the road.

There was another car rapidly catching up to her, a silver horse emblazoned on the grill. The Mustang started to slow down, still going much faster than the cream rabbit. The Mustang, red with a thick black stripe running across the doors, pulled up next to her. The red car's engine roared. It either just wanted attention, or it wanted to race.

_I'm __not __gonna race you! _She thought. She reasoned that her car, almost thirty years old now, would look like a sloth on Codeine compared to the new Mustang. _Besides, I'm not looking to vindicate a tiny penis._

She looked over at the people in the Mustang. Four men – boys, more like. Probably no older than seventeen.

_Yup. Tiny penis._

The boys were hollering at her, the engine of their car still showing off with loud growls. She held her left hand out the window and flipped up her middlemost finger in response. The boys must have thought that was pretty funny cause they just laughed. The two windows on the Mustang closer to her rolled down, and two boys stuck their heads through. One in the front; the other in the back.

"Hey, baby!" the boy in front yelled, "Why don't you show us some skin?!"

She looked the four over for a moment, "How old are you?"

The boy in back answered, "Old enough!"

All four boys, even the one driving, were looking straight at her. Luckily for them traffic wasn't a concern right now. She was split on how to react. A part of her wanted to let it all go. Just lift her white tank-top, the black bra underneath too. Why not? No one else was around. No one knew her here. Just do it for the sake of doing it. Its something those kids would remember for the rest of their lives.

Another part of her, an equally powerful part, wanted to ram her Cabriolet right into their Mustang. Knock it right off the road then keep driving without looking back. A fiery arm stretching up to the sky in her rear-view mirror. An experience just as memorable

Instead she split the difference.

She laughed mirthlessly, "Kid, I don't think you could handle what I've got."

One of the boys yelled out, "Challenge accepted!"

She shook her head. She was going to slow down at this point to try and get the boys to move ahead of her. If they didn't take the hint she would pull the top of her car back up. Then she noticed something that changed her plans. There was smoke rising from under the hood of her little car. She hadn't noticed that for the past ten minutes the gauges on her dashboard we screaming at her, "OVERHEAT!"

She pulled the car off to the side of the road. Stopping a little further ahead of her, the boys' Mustang also pulled over. By the time the boys got out of their car and walked over to her, she had already propped the hood open and assessed the situation. The smell she noticed oddly reminded her of brownies. The coolant system must of sprung a small leak somewhere, an easy enough fix, but she didn't have any parts to fix it with. She did have some extra anti-freeze in the trunk. Hopefully enough to get the car all the way into the city where a proper mechanic could take a proper look at it. She would still need to let the engine cool down before she could do anything. A feat that promised to take long with that blazing sun right overhead.

The boys saw her leaning over the open engine compartment. They had a slight arrogant curiosity as to whether she even knew what she was looking at or just pretending, her being a girl and all. But mostly they were looking at how her white tank-top was pressing against her waist and hips. Her legs were barely covered by a dark blue pair of daisy-dukes. If she had leaned over just a bit further the boys would have been able to get a peak at her polished, round gluteus maximus. They also noted that she wasn't wearing any shoes or socks, and wondered how she wasn't burning her feet on the boiling tarmac.

"Is everything all right?" one of the boys asked. His voice sounded genuine in it's concern.

"Yeah," she responded, "Just need to let the engine rest a minute."

"If you need a ride–" one of the boys began.

"You can sit in back with us," his friend interrupted, "It'll be a tight squeeze with three people, but you can sit on my lap." The one boy who had asked her if she was alright groaned at this, another laughed a little.

_Now you're just being creepy. _She thought. She then let the bonnet fall back into place. She had her snowboard crammed into the back seat, where it was just barely fitting. Even if she wanted to, there was no way her and her things would all fit.

She walked around to the side of her car, lifted the top back over the seats and snapped it in place. "Thanks for the offer," she began to say to the boys, "but no." She then, with one hand, very easily lifted the whole Cabriolet above her head, "I think I can manage on my own."

Buttercup then continued floating towards Denver, car and all.

# # #

Buttercup usually avoided long flights. It got on the government's nerves, and it spooked air traffic controllers to see a small, unidentified flying object, often times moving incredibly fast. Mostly she just didn't like the attention it gave brought on her whenever someone saw her flying. She was used to the attention, but she didn't like it. Probably because she hated those people who always wanted to be seen. People like Princess Morebucks. What a bitch, that one.

So Buttercup flew with her car slightly faster than she had driven with it. She feared that going too fast might damage the already wounded rabbit. She was right outside the city now, looking for a place she might be able to put down her vehicle to get it repaired. She would probably leave the car with the mechanic for a week or so while she continued north-east towards the mountains. The old Volkswagen probably wouldn't have been able to make it up the steep roads anyways. After getting her fill of snowboarding she would fly back down, pick the car up (not literally this time), pay the nice man, and keep heading north. Maybe she'd stop in South Dakota to see Mount Rushmore.

Buttercup saw with her impressive sight, a small auto-tuning shop that didn't look too busy. She gently floated down and landed right in front. An old grease monkey must have seen her landing cause he came right out to meet her.

"I ain't never seen a flyin' car before," he said, lifting his trucker hat with one hand and running the other through his messy gray hair.

"And you never will," Buttercup answered tersely, "Not outside _The Jetsons."_ She explained the situation to the man and asked how much it would cost to fix.

"Well, I'll take a look around the engine and see what the exact problem is, but if you're right then I could probably have it ready for you tomorrow. It should only run you about fifty."

Buttercup nodded her head, "Would it be okay if I left the car here for, lets say, eight days?"

The man scratched his head with the brim of his hat, "The thing is I can only hold so many cars in the garage, and I need the space for other costumers. If you wanted to stay I would have to charge you extra."

Buttercup agreed and handed the man her keys. She opened the door to pull out her snowboarding gear when there was a sudden noise, louder than any of the traffic nearby. It sounded like a tidal wave of thunder slowly rolling towards her. She turned to see where it had come from.

One of the buildings sticking through the firmament had erupted in fire. Pieces of it had blown off, and some were landing even as far away as she. The top of another building then burst. This second shock was what knocked everyone out of the first, as it was only then that people started screaming. The mechanic that had been talking to Buttercup began nervously backing away. A fireball with a steel core suddenly fell right next to the two, fisting a hole the size of a terrier through the hood of Buttercup's Cabriolet. The car pitched forward from the impact, rear wheels completely off the ground for a moment. The sudden impact had knocked the grease monkey off his feet. Buttercup remained standing. She put a hand on her car, as if checking for a pulse. The front axles had flattened, with both wheels now splayed to the side like duck feet.

"You never hurt anyone," she whispered to the vehicle.

A third explosion sounded. This one on ground level, and much much closer to Buttercup's position; right across the street. She didn't see any fire from this new eruption, but saw the dust rushing in a wave towards her. The force had knocked her off her feet, throwing her into the large bay doors of the repair shop. Her car, likewise, had been pushed into the garage, though it had gone right through the doors.

Buttercup got to her feet. There was a ringing in her ears and she was bruised. Feelings she hasn't felt in a long time. Emotionally she was concerned, angry, and a tinsy bit excited. She saw the man she had been talking to. He was groaning and clutching his knee up to his chest. His body rolled to and fro just a little bit. She went over to him, "Are you okay? Can you walk?"

He nodded his head, "I think so."

Buttercup helped him stand up. He limped slightly, and there was some blood coming down from under his hat, but otherwise he looked fine.

"Do you have a basement?" Buttercup asked. The man nodded his head again, "Get down there and get that leg wrapped up. Bring water if you can." She then helped him through the door of his repair shop.

She heard a loud groan, the sound steel made right before it gave up. She turned to see the building that produced the force which knocked her back moments ago was now beginning to lean over. Those first two explosions were at the top of buildings, only meant to scare people. But this third one happened at the base, and was meant to cause some real damage.

There were a few other explosions. In the chaos, Buttercup couldn't tell how large they were or where they had come from. But she knew that this building, falling down right in front of her, had to be dealt with. She flew about halfway up the building's side and began to push back against the way it was falling. It slowed down a bit, but the walls were cracking. Buttercup knew that it was about to just fall around her. She walked her arms up the side, hoping that towards the top might be more durable.

The force of the fall was greater up at the top of the building. The steel kept whining as Buttercup's efforts seemed less and less effective. She was falling with the building.

"Dammit!" she screamed with a final push.

It was too great. The building snapped in half. Buttercup carried the top half with her, but the bottom fell. Her efforts at least stopped it from knocking over any other buildings. She was able to put the top half down safely, though she was unaware as to how much the occupants inside had suffered.

She stepped back onto the street, still barefoot. There was almost no spot that wasn't littered with glass or concrete. A broken body or four. She walked slowly, dimly aware of the noise in her background. It sounded like an entire rain forest had been cut down, littered with desperate screams. Buttercup wasn't sure what to do.

There were a few police officers doing their best to direct people to safety, some helping the injured. The firefighters had given up on trying to actually fight fires, instead focusing on freeing folks trapped by debris. Buttercup knew she would be best suited to do the same, and began heaving huge mounds of steel and concrete, freeing some who had been buried alive.

Buttercup hadn't heard any explosions recently, but the fire and sirens and screams and shouting and shattering glass were enough noise. Suddenly a new sound came in. A sound that canceled all others out in Buttercup's mind. Not because of how loud it was, but because of what it meant.

There was a gunshot. It left a ghostly echo in its wake.

Buttercup saw it. One of the cops fell over. A few people were emerging from the destruction wearing unfamiliar uniforms. They carried AK-47s, and they were shooting all the cops and firefighters. Anyone wearing a uniform that wasn't their's was a target.

She moved like green lightning, blocking bullets before they could hit anyone else. In about two seconds time she had disabled all the people firing. She sprung to the closest one, ground cracking beneath her heavy steps. His rifle crunched in her grip, her other hand hoisted him by the collar before slamming him back down. Then she went to the next, repeating the process. Then the next. Then the next. Then the next. All in two seconds time.

Then something else entirely happened. Something Buttercup had a hard time rationalizing. There was a man, a thin thin man, floating towards her. He seemed to be balanced on a red mist that lingered around his feet. He was shirtless, showing tattoos painted all across his chest. Buttercup could see a few upside down crucifixes, and a large pentacle star in the center of his chest. In between these were red flames, and black monsters, skulls and torn flesh. Buttercup thought she could even see an almost comical rendition of Satan.

This floating man's arms were spread apart, palms facing outwards. There were innumerable gashes running the length of his forearms, the largest three were still bleeding. He pointed his arm towards the men Buttercup had just defeated. The blood on his arms came to life and turned into a mist similar to what he was floating on. The mist surrounded the men. They all screamed when this occurred, though for a moment it looked as though nothing was happening. Then the mist dove into their bodies, levitating them all off the ground. The screaming had stopped at this point.

Buttercup didn't waste any time. "Move!" she yelled to the police.

The police stopped staring at the scene and began to run in the opposite direction. When Buttercup looked back, the skin of the bodies that were suspended in the air split at the neck, armpit, and inner thigh. All their major arteries. It looked as though all their blood was ripped away, and now flowed into the floating man.

"Pawns cannot hope to defeat a queen," the man said, "But I am no pawn!" Blood began pouring from his wounds again.

"I don't have time for this!" Buttercup yelled. Her green eyes turned red, and beams of heat blasted the man down the street through the windows of a collapsed grocery store. She took to the sky before he came back out.

Buttercup was out of sight, but the bloody man stepped back into the street and said aloud, "There is not a shadow to hide in that won't feel the pain of the new world."

# # #

Buttercup had moved on to different parts of the city. It was bedlam everywhere. More of those soldiers from before were gunning down all police and anyone who tried to fight against them. Buttercup helped everyone she could get to safety before turning her ire onto the men with guns.

They unloaded every bullet they had as she walked towards them. Her shirt was ripping apart, but she wasn't slowing down. Her eyes remained fixed on the center of the group. The men began to sweat and panic. As soon as one turned to run Buttercup moved and was behind him before he even completed his one-eighty. There were more screams, but none that Buttercup cared about.

She left one of the men completely uninjured. All the others weren't about to wake up any time soon. She grabbed the one conscience man and flew up into the sky with him.

"Who are you people?! Who's in charge?!"

The man let out a small laugh, though it sounded forced and timorous, "N-no one's in charge of us. W-w-we all act in-in-dependently!"

Buttercup flipped the man upside down, holding on to him by only his left ankle. She looked at the man again but didn't speak. The man's sweat came out harder, but he shook his head no.

This response did not satisfy Buttercup, so she gently crashed the man against the wall of a nearby building.

"I won't!" he screamed, blood now staining his teeth.

Buttercup shrugged and let go.

The man fell the fifteen stories head first, screaming the whole way down. When he was only about a foot away from the ground Buttercup caught him, taking him back up into the sky, higher this time.

"I guess I should ask you your name before I drop you. Not even your teeth will survive to identify you by."

The man whimpered. Buttercup was sure he was about to crack. There was a jumbo TV pinned to the side of the building across the street. It suddenly came to life with light and sound. The man quickly yet fearfully pointed towards it. A new man appeared on the screen. Buttercup tossed the soldier in her hand casually onto the roof of a building. From there he ran away, clutching the seat of his pants.

The man on the TV spoke.

"Settle.

"Settle.

"People of the world, have no more fear. I am Captain Anarchy."

_WHAT! _Thought Buttercup, _What the hell kind of name is that?! Its not even a good super villain name!_

Captain Anarchy continued, "My people and I are here to set you all free. We are not terrorists. We do not have any demands. Your fear now is understandable, but it is merely the blinding light that comes from stepping into the sun for the very first time. You have all been sheltered from the real world. Sheltered by the authority that is government!

"We have done away with the governments of the world. Even as we speak, agents of freedom, like the ones in your very city, have been getting rid of all remnants of the terrible old ways."

_This can't be happening everywhere, can it?_

"You are no doubt confused. You don't know who to turn to. Turn to yourself! Become the king of your own domain! The police were the face of oppression, government the iron hands that controlled them! No longer will the rich be able to rely on their wealth for protection! If you want something, take it! This world is now truly yours for the first time.

"We are not here to conquer. My men are helping to facilitate change. A new world is upon us. The world you all silently cried out for. A world, not run by institutions, but by people. By you.

"Have you seen _The Dark Knight Rises? _Its a lot like that, except everywhere!

"My generals, men and women both of extraordinary abilities, are also out in the world, making sure that others with great powers don't interfere. Support them when you can, for they are the pointed spear of your salvation!

"This is the new world order!"

Buttercup could see the many people gathered around the television, staring up at it in awe. Someone began cheering. Reluctantly, others joined in. They split up. Most went to looting stores for anything that might help protect themselves and their families. A minority of folks continued searching through the rubble. Surprisingly, the soldiers who had been gunning people down were now helping to pull people out as well.

Buttercup saw all this. And she had only one thing to say.

"What a butt-faced jackass."

**A/N: Thanks for making it this far down the page. If you liked it let me know. If you didn't still let me know. If you think there's room for improvement tell me that, too. Not sure exactly where the story will go from here. Hopefully to good places.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Thanks for the reads, everyone. Hopefully this chapter is just as good if not better than the last.**

Buttercup VS The New World Order

Chapter 2

Vs Gruff MacKillhammer

The initial attack had been carried out within acceptable parameters. Now, sixteen hours later, the people responsible gathered to prepare for their next move. There was Captain Anarchy, sitting proudly at his own personal round table. In the chairs next to him sat his generals. There were four of them, though an empty space at the table indicated that a fifth had yet to arrive.

The Captain stood up, "Let us take roll for our meeting."

"Uuuggg!" One of the other men at the table said. He had a slight cockney accent. It was almost like he was trying to hide it when he spoke, "You know who's here and who isn'! Why waste our time with this?!"

"Oh, let him have his fun," the third man in the room said; he was as large as a polar bear, "The Captain never got to join any clubs as a kid."

Captain Anarchy stared at the man, something close to hate in his eyes, "Just for that, you'll go first, _Gruff MacKillhammer!"_

Gruff, a man who's fist was the size of a motorcycle engine, raised a hand very politely and said, "Present." He smiled at the Captain.

Next, Captain Anarchy said, "Lady Wicca?"

In response, one of the two women at the table, the taller of the two, whose hair was long, dark and fluttery, much like the dress she wore, said, "I am here."

"Jane Doe?" was the next name spoken.

A petite woman who would have been exceptionally cute were it not for a long, thick surgery scar running between her eyes and down her left cheek. Jane didn't speak, instead raising her hand slightly, nodding her head as she did so. There was also something about her mouth that was strange. No one who looked at her could quiet put their finger on it, but they all felt just a little off put by her.

It just seemed a bit too wide.

The Captain then said, "Kill O' Me–"

"You know I'm here!" interrupted Kill O' Meter, "We got breakfast together!"

"Humph!" went Captain Anarchy. Then he recomposed himself, "And that just leaves Dirge Bloodpain." The five people sitting around the table all looked towards the one seat that was without occupancy.

" . . . Maybe he died . . ." Jane Doe said with neither sadness nor humor.

"Milady, you play with my heart when you say such hopeful things," said Gruff with a laugh.

"He probably forgot about the meeting. Wan' me to go out looking for him?" Kill O' Meter stood up and stretched his legs a bit in preparation.

There was no need.

The door suddenly flung open. In walked the bloody man Buttercup had briefly battled with. There was a burn mark the size of a human skull in the center of his chest. His face was pulled tight in frustration.

Upon seeing him, Gruff let out a laugh, a bellow that could stoke a furnace, "What happened?" said he, "Did you fall asleep on your soup?"

"Insufferable fool!" yelled Dirge Bloodpain, "On a whim I could tear through your fle-"

"I will rip both your arms off and beat you to death with them before you even finish that sentence," interrupted Gruff, his voice never becoming more than calm

Dirge's mouth was left open a moment, his eyes were wide with anger. He looked as though he was about to speak more when Captain Anarchy said, "Calm down, everyone! . . . Dirge, take your seat so you may tell us how your dark temperament came to be even more foul than its brooding norm."

Dirge looked between the Captain and Gruff a few times. He held his eyes on Gruff for a few moments. Dirge's face grew more and more angry as he stared at the large man, whose eyes in turn were dark, empty in their emotion. It seemed to Dirge that Gruff cared very little for any of the others in the room, especially himself. After a few seconds passed in this manner (seconds that seemed hours to Kill O' Meter), Dirge took his seat. As he did so, Gruff muttered imperceptibly low, "Voluble tool." It is unclear who exactly it was being directed to.

"Wha' happened to you?" Asked Kill O' Meter.

"I ran into a superhero," was all Dirge said. The rest around the table waited a moment, expecting there to be more to the story, but nothing more came.

"A superhero?" Began Kill O' Meter, "That's why you're so upset? We all had to deal with superheros!"

"But I don't think our melancholy friend here was as successful in said dealings," went Gruff. He looked over to Dirge, his giant fingers, each one an inch in diameter, rapping against the table. Gruff remembered fondly the battle he had with Major Glory. The hero's struggles were cute.

"It wasn't a hero we had anticipated!" Yelled Dirge.

"Who was it, then?" asked Captain Anarchy.

"Was it Robopatriot?" asked Lady Wicca.

"No!" Dirge hesitated. His cheeks turned a slight pink from embarrassment, "It was a Powerpuff Girl."

Captain Anarchy's face gained a puzzled look. Gruff became suddenly introverted, as though there was a complex math equation he was trying to solve in his head. Kill O' Meter laughed out loud. Jane Doe remained unaffected. Lady Wicca's eyes lit up.

"The Powerpuff Girls" she squealed, "I used to love them! They were so cute! Which one did you fight?!"

"Buttercup."

"Oh," said Lady Wicca, slightly disappointed, "Blossom was always my favorite."

"Cause she's super smart, and self supportive, and reads Kate Chopin, and goes to all the local bra burning parties?" asked Kill O' Meter sarcastically.

"How like a man to insult that which they haven't the ability to understand," Lady Wicca spat, her cool demeanor betraying her anger, An etherial arm slowly stretched out towards the man, wrapping tenderly around him, "Your 'Man's' world is like a distant star. People may still see it's light, but really it died off years ago."

"Does Buttercup's appearance really pose such a threat?" asked Jane Doe suddenly, "One hero probably won't change much in the long run. She wasn't able to stop what happened in Denver." Jane's voice remained emotionless, but the whole group sans Gruff nodded in agreement with her.

"Were either of her sisters there?" the Captain asked Dirge, who shook his head in response, "Still . . . We should deal with her. I feel weak knowing she was able to beat one of our group." Dirge's face went pink again.

"Not since the _Gleason_ incident" Gruff muttered to himself. He hadn't heard anything the others had said after Dirge mentioned Buttercup.

"What was that?" asked Captain Anarchy.

"Nothing," Gruff said very promptly, "I will go to Townsville. I'm sure Buttercup, if not one of her sisters, will be there. Besides. A few of the old super villains over there have been causing trouble."

Captain Anarchy nodded his head, "So be it. But she may be sympathetic to our cause. See if you can get her to join us before you kill her." Gruff looked a little disappointed when he heard this, but left without another word.

# # #

Buttercup had to check on Townsville. It wasn't a question of desire; it just needed to be done. The Professor still lived there, maybe one, or even both her sisters showed up during the chaos. She had stayed behind in Denver for a while to try and help the people there. She didn't worry too much about the looters, instead focusing more on pulling people out of the fallen buildings. What concerned her most was that many of the people she saw, while helping to rescue people, didn't seem too upset over what happened.

She had heard stories from some of the people helping her clear debris. They were saying things like, "All branches of the government were out of commission. Even over seas." Buttercup found the idea ridiculous. Nothing could cripple an entire country so quickly, let alone the world. But at the same time, shouldn't the National Guard, or some form of the military have shown up to help out?

Buttercup had spent about ten straight hours just searching for people after the incident. She didn't even realize that her clothes were shredded to the point that they hardly covered her. One of her nipples could even be seen poking out of the tatters that covered her chest.

As embarrassing as it was to be caught in public practically naked, Buttercup was more ashamed taking cloths from an abandoned department store. It still felt like stealing to her, so she only took cheap stuff. A new pair of black underwear, a sports bra to match. She found a basic pair of gray sweat pants, and a brown hoodie from the Men's section. She counted up the price of everything. Under fifty dollars. A part of her promised that she would come back to pay when everything was back to normal, but that didn't seem very likely.

She tried to get a healthy eight hours of sleep. Ended up only getting half that. Nerves kept her up. That, and thoughts of her sisters. She wondered if they were alright. She wondered why they hadn't spoken since high school. Her muscles were tired. Buttercup hadn't really flexed them to their full capacity in a long time. She was thirteen the last time; eight years ago. Sleep should have come easy.

When sleep finally did come it brought with it dreams. Buttercup couldn't remember exactly what happened in them, but it was bad.

She awoke with the sun just starting to rise over the crumpled city. She left for Townsville immediately. Her body was still tired, but she tried not to let that slow her down. As she flew across Nevada into California she could see that the stories were true. It was chaos everywhere, all except for the small towns away from big cities. She didn't want to imagine what New York City was like right now.

It didn't take her long to reach her home, though when she got there, Buttercup wished she hadn't come at all. The city proper had been almost completely leveled. It looked just like one of the old monsters had come walking through, only this time there were no firefighters putting out the burn, and no police officers going around making sure people were okay. The bodies of the dead were left where they fell, and there were many of them.

Buttercup turned away from the sight. Her only condolence was that the suburbs had remained mostly untouched. She almost screamed in delight when seeing her home intact. She landed in front of her door, a hand quickly wrapping around the knob.

A sudden terrible thought surged through her. What if the Professor had been in the center of the City when everything happened?

She quickly opened the door, almost tearing it off the hinges, "Hello?!" she screamed almost to the point where her voice became a weapon. The echo died away, a moment of awful silence followed. She was about to start tearing the house apart when she heard a creaking noise coming from behind the door to the Professor's lab.

Buttercup instantly moved in front of the door. It began to crack open. The first thing to come out was a white metallic hand, followed by a familiar voice saying unfamiliar things, "I'm armed!"

"Professor?" asked Buttercup.

There was a pause. The door to the lab then suddenly swung wide open, "Buttercup!" the Professor yelled. He was still wearing his white lab coat. The metallic fist that had come out of the door was part of the Professor's old Power Prof outfit. He had on his face a beard that was a few months thick. He must've started growing it long before any of the craziness outside began.

Buttercup rushed her whole body into him. They fell down the stairs from which the Professor had come. Buttercup remembered that her father was up in years now, and so she stopped them from hitting the floor at the last second.

"I'm so glad you're okay." Buttercup whispered. She never would have admitted it, but there may have been a tear running down her cheek.

"I'm okay, Buttercup. I'm okay."

Buttercup's face was quickly wiped clean as she stood up to prevent anyone from seeing the tear that may or may not have been there. She noticed then that there was someone else in the lab with them.

"Miss Keane?" she asked.

Miss Keane Laughed nervously, "Its good to see you again, Buttercup . . . Umm . . . How've you been?"

Buttercup looked between her father and former teacher. Neither were looking at each other; purposefully avoiding eye contact, it seemed. "Are you two . . . You know . . . " her hands made awkward gestures in the air. The word Buttercup would have normally used was "boinking," but it seemed far too crass to be used in association with her father. The word that instead came out was, "Canoodling?"

The Professor cleared his throat before he set about dodging the question, "Have you heard from either of your sisters?" he asked.

Buttercup shook her head, "I was hoping you had."

The Professor sighed, "I haven't heard from Bubbles since you all graduated. Blossom emailed me a few months ago. Said she was in Africa."

_Africa? Why the hell would she be there? _Buttercup dug at the ground a bit with her foot. She began to worry about Bubbles. It was a habit she had formed growing up. Blossom was always able to take care of herself, but Bubbles had always needed protection.

"Is it really as bad everywhere else as it is here?" Miss Keane asked, her northern accent quaking a bit.

"At least everywhere between here and Denver."

The three stood in silence. Buttercup was expecting someone to say something hopeful. She continued waiting a bit longer. Finally she asked, "So, is there any sort've plan?"

The Professor walked over to his slightly outdated computer monitor, "That man who appeared on TV, the one calling himself Captain Anarchy – "

"What a silly name," Miss Keane muttered.

"That message has just been repeating on every channel. The phone lines are all down, too; no surprise there. Same goes for all the major radio stations. Local ones still work."

"How could they have done so much so quickly?" asked Buttercup, to which her father just shrugged his shoulders.

"We've been trying to find a way to trace the source of those broadcasts, but . . . " Miss Keans started to say.

"Its coming from a bunch of different places?" guessed Buttercup.

The two older people nodded their heads.

"Uuuugh!" Buttercup almost screamed with frustration, "There's got to be something we can do?!"

"Well," began the Professor, "There is one other thing I've been trying to do." he swiped a hand across his keyboard. Several web pages began popping up, all of which played the same video as the TVs, "This video has been all over the web. . . . Kids still say 'the web,' right?"

"Yeah, dad," Buttercup slapped herself in the forehead.

"Anyways. This video seems to be blocking out everything else."

"Oh no. How will people look at porn now?" Buttercup threw her hands up in the air in mock horror.

"The point is," interjected Miss Keane, slightly embarrassed by Buttercup's indelicacy, "its very likely that they're using a single, massive data server to block the internet."

"That seems really far fetched," Buttercup exclaimed, "I mean, the net is huge!"

"Its probably in their favor that many places lost power after the attack. And there's a good chance that they destroyed many of the other large servers."

That seemed to make sense to the Powerpuff Girl.

"So how long before you track these guys down?" she asked.

"I don't know."

Buttercup stared at the Professor with a blank look on her face.

"What? Its not like I've ever done this before. Computers have never been my specialty!"

Buttercup stretched her arms. She was still tired from the day before, and that concerned her, "Let me know when you've got it all figured out. Then I'll go in, smash it all to hell, and people can start skyping again, or whatever."

"Communication is the greatest asset in warfare," the Professor said.

"Yeah. Blossom used to say stuff like that all the time." Buttercup yawned.

"You look tired."

"When was the last time you ate?" Miss Keane asked.

"I ate breakfast . . . yesterday."

"Come on," Miss Keane began leading Buttercup back upstairs, "I'll make us something to eat."

# # #

While Buttercup was speaking with the Professor, Gruff MacKillhammer had arrived in Townsville via helicopter. The city was much changed from what he remembered. The last time he was here was ten years ago. Coming to Townsville was one of the first things he did after graduating. It was a sort of pilgrimage for him; coming to the home city of his favorites heroes. He wasn't able to meet any of them, but he was there for one of their battles against Mojo Jojo. As he remembered he realized that it was their last battle with the monkey.

"It looks like we'll have to land outside the city limits!" the pilot yelled.

"You're not landing," Gruff said, his voice, though spoken at normal volumes, was easily heard over the rushing helicopter blades, "You're going back to base."

By the time the pilot responded with a surprised, "What!" Gruff had walked off the vehicle, falling straight into the damaged city.

His landing kicked dust into the air, enough so that his entire body was rendered hidden for a moment while it settled. No one was around to see anyway, but Gruff thought it was a pretty cool entrance. He had heard from some of the soldiers he worked with that Sedusa had rallied a sort of cult around her, and that they wanted to secure Townsville as their own. This was a big no no in the world Captain Anarchy wanted. Gruff didn't care much for the Captain's grand plans, but he did want to see this city again, and he had the feeling that he would finally be able to meet at least one of his idols this time.

In the distance, Gruff could hear a rapid succession of gunshots. He recognized the sound as belonging to the standard issue, AK-47. He began his walk in that direction.

# # #

Miss Keane had scrambled eggs for everyone. After eating, Buttercup had gone up to her old room, hoping to sleep a little more. _Where is Bubbles? _Was the thought that kept running through her head. As she passed by the bathroom she thought about how wonderful a shower would feel. A long, hot shower to wash away all the sweat and blood that she slept in overnight. Yes. That sounded great. She veered course.

The lights flicked on for the bathroom with ease, so far this area was doing fine with power supply. The Powerpuff turned the water on, tested its temperature. When it became suitably hot she dropped her cloths and stepped in. The water poured over her face. She kept her eyes closed, but imagined that as the water rolled off her body it dragged with it layers upon layers of dirt and grime. In her mind, the water rushing by her feet was deep and brown with dirt. The reality was not so dirty, but it helped Buttercup to relax thinking that yesterday was washing all away. After a time she crouched down and held her knees to her chest. She sat this way in the water for a few minutes; not so much thinking, just being.

_Blossom. I wish you were here. _Buttercup pushed were dripping bangs out of her face. _You would know what to do._

She turned the water off and got out of the shower.

After toweling off, Buttercup walked into her old room. The room was unchanged from when she last saw it. It was clean, though. The Professor must have dusted frequently. Buttercup and her sisters hadn't slept in the same bed since middle school. There were three small beds lined up against the east wall. Buttercup remembered when they first changed from one to three beds. Blossom's was closest to the windows, and originally Buttercup's bed was next, with Bubbles' being closest to the door. Blossom and Buttercup kept getting into arguments, so Bubbles switched beds with her green sister. It seemed as though that was always her role in the family.

Buttercup opened one of the windows. The air was fresh. Something about that freshness, though it did re-energize her a bit, seemed improper in this situation. She closed her eyes and just breathed for a moment. When she opened her eyes she saw something unexpected. There was a helicopter flying away from the city.

Her body screamed for sleep. All those hours of precious rem cycle rest she had lost before where begging to come back now. But something else inside her bade her look into the situation. It was more than curiosity, but something less than divine guidance.

She jumped through the window and flew towards the city.

# # #

Gruff wasn't rushing his steps, but still came upon the scene in less than twenty minutes. Much of the gunfire had ceased by then. He saw a number of men surrounding his main target, Sedusa. The woman was holding in her prehensile hair another man, this one wearing the uniform of Gruff's comrades. The hair was a tight noose around the helpless man's neck, a noose that kept getting tighter and tighter. Sedusa looked straight into the man's eyes as the light left them, his fingers stuck around the deadly necklace. She tossed him away.

"That wasn't very nice," Gruff said as he emerged from the rubble.

Some of the men with Sedusa must have been either converted or fooled into joining her because they seemed to recognize the large man before them. And they trembled.

Sedusa looked him up and down. He was a stunning specimen of man, at least in his size, but she had all the help she needed already. "And who might you be?" she asked.

"I'm the trashman," said Gruff as he opened his arms wide, "I deal with all the trash."

"I see," Sedusa's voice was unamused, her eyes narrow. She turned back to the ten or so men with her, her arms wrapping around the closest of them, "Boys, you know what would make me _really _happy?" she paused as though waiting for reply, though she knew none would come, "If you would blast this oaf to pieces. I would be _sooo _grateful." Her voice slithered in seductive tones.

Gruff's arms were still to his sides when the men opened fire on him. After about fifteen seconds of pure noise, the men all had to reload their weapons. Gruff did not fall over. His shirt had ripped off, but his body was fine. Around his feet lay dozens of bullets, flattened after hitting an immovable force.

"You may run away now," Gruff said to the men. They all complied.

Sedusa's face had been mangled by fury. She screamed, her tentacle hair began hurling chunks of fallen buildings towards her new enemy.

Gruff walked towards the woman, his path never deviating from straight. The boulders that slammed into him had little affect, even the ones that connected with his skull. Sedusa grew more and more panicked as he got closer. Twenty yards. Ten yards. Ten feet. He wasn't slowing down. Finally she stopped throwing and decided to attack him directly.

Sedusa's hair leapt out like vipers, coiling around the outstretched hand that Gruff had put forward. She pulled against the larger man, confident that he would be lifted from the ground. He never moved. Instead, Gruff pulled his straightened arm all the way back to his chest. He did so very fluidly. Very easily. Sedusa was jerked forward. Gruff caught her with the same hand he pulled her with; his callused fingers surrounded her whole head, her face fit comfortably in his palm.

Sedusa's hair and limbs flailed wildly as Gruff lifted her into the air.

"I have suffered your kind before," Gruff's free hand grabbed her legs, and held her horizontally above his head, "But it is a suffering I've always returned tenfold!" As he yelled the last word, the giant's arms spread apart as far as they would go in one smooth motion. From his right hand dropped Sedusa. His left hand then dropped Sedusa too.

# # #

Buttercup heard gunfire while flying towards the city. _Only the dead rest, _thought she while speeding in the direction of the sounds. It didn't take long for her to reach the sight. From her spot in the sky she saw a familiar face being approached by an unfamiliar one. Buttercup floated down closer. Someone was actually fighting Sedusa! Buttercup was expecting all of her old villains to be running completely out of control around the city, but Sedusa was the first one she actually saw.

Buttercup got ready to land and greet this giant. She didn't know who he was but he would definitely prove to be a strong ally, the way those boulders just bounced off him. And he was able to subdue Sedusa so easily.

Then blood splattered his face as he ripped her in half.

_Atlas and the phone-book._

That thought kept leaping through Buttercup's head. _Atlas and the phone-book. Atlas and the phone-book! Atlas and the bloody phone-book!_

She landed on the ground in front of the man. She stumbled a bit, her eyes never left Sedusa's body.

Gruff saw her, "Aha! I knew you would be here!" he jogged towards her excitedly, left arm stretched all the way out, "I'm a huge fan of yours!"

"You murdered her," Buttercup whispered.

Gruff didn't hear her, "Wow. I really was expecting you to be taller! I guess its cause I always looked up to you." He laughed out loud.

Buttercup's eyes were on the body the whole time. When she finally looked into the excited, hollow eyes of Gruff she repeated, "You murdered her!"

Gruff's face went from unbridled enthusiasm to disappointed. He looked back at the body listlessly. "Yeah," he turned his gaze back to Buttercup, "Are you really that surprised?"

"Why? She was already beaten! You didn't have to kill her!" _So what! _Another side of her screamed, _You're just upset that he did it first! You should have killed them all years ago! You just never had the stones to do it!_

Gruff shrugged his massive shoulders, "It doesn't really matter that much in the long run. I killed her because that's what I decided to do. Just like how I've decided I'm going to kill you."

Buttercup took a step back from the giant man, not out of fear, but out of shock.

"What?"

"I," began Gruff very slowly, "Am. Going. To. Kill," he pointed a massive finger at the comparatively tiny girl, "You." He then added as an afterthought, "Probably."

_Is it really going to be as easy as that? _Thought Buttercup.

Gruff continued, "The Captain wanted me to see if you would join up with us, but I really just don't see that happening. Especially after, you know," he cocked a thumb in the direction of Sedusa's corpse, letting out a high whistle as he did, "And then there's the chance that you might kill me," he paused, his whole body looming over the Powerpuff Girl, "But that doesn't seem very likely either."

Buttercup's feet lifted a few inches off the ground. "I'm not going to kill you," she began floating backwards, "I'm gonna give you a crash course in morality."

Gruff gestured his arm out to her, "You begin your battles by retreating? Wow, I sure am scared."

Buttercup was about fifty feet away from him now. She chuckled a bit, "Not retreating," her feet landed on the ground again. She stretched her left leg out behind her, toes still touching the concrete. Her arms dropped down and touched the ground as well. She looked like an runner about to start a race, "I'm beginning."

Her forward foot pushed. The ground gave out as she left. She had become a rocket, and in the fifty feet between her and her enemy, she had accelerated well over three-hundred miles per hour. The sound barrier shattered like glass. Her fists were extended out in front of her when she slammed into Gruff. He was taken off his feet, letting out a small, "umph!" as she connected.

Buttercup flew him through the building behind him. While still flying, right before they impacted a second building, Gruff laid his left hand on Buttercup's shoulder, and planted both his heels roughly into the ground. They very suddenly slowed down. Gruff's legs had been driven into the earth up to the knees. Buttercup's head was ducked down, and it seemed she didn't quite understand why she had stopped moving. Gruff's right arm dropped down to his side, his fist clenched at his hip. His knees bent slightly, and then straightened out as that right fist arched upwards into Buttercup's gut.

The force of the punch had knocked all the dust around them into the air. Buttercup was knocked into the sky, higher than any of the former skyscrapers. Both her arms wrapped instinctively around her stomach. If she needed breath it would have been knocked out of her. The eggs Miss Keane had made begun to march back up Buttercup's throat. She coughed and vomited. She was about to fall back down when she caught herself.

Her mouth had blood in it. Her stomach felt flabby. Her shoulders had begun to hurt.

_Weakweakweakweakweak! You may as well give up cause you are nothing!_

Buttercup let go of her stomach. She looked down at her target. He was standing in the same spot, waiting for her to come back down. Her upper lip rose, her canines bit into the lower. The capillaries of her eyes bulged with blood and rage while her pupils narrowed with a terrible focus.

_Rip him apart!_

Gruff was looking up at Buttercup. From the ground she looked like a tiny bug. He had pulled his feet out of the holes they had made. He saw three quick red flashes in the sky, followed by three boiling shafts of energy. None of them hit him directly, but the ground around him exploded with dust. Gruff couldn't see anything farther than his own arms. He heard the air pop as Buttercup zoomed down to his level, but he didn't have time to block her attack.

Buttercup's arms seemed to multiply into the thousands as she rapidly punched Gruff's chest and face. By the time he prepared a counter attack she flashed behind him, delivering a crushing left hook into his kidney. He turned to try and catch her again, but again she went around him. She was moving so fast that she didn't realize that Gruff was waiting. The knee she had wanted to slam into his stomach was caught in a giant palm. His free hand gripped her ankle, and he swung her overhead like a hammer into the ground.

The Earth echoed, and shook. Gruff slammed Buttercup into the ground a second time. On the third slam he used both arms to rip her through the air. The mark left on the ground from her body was six feet wide, four deep. Gruff gently tossed her in the air, catching both her arms with his.

His face was sad, "I was expecting more from you."

Buttercup's eyes were open, but there seemed to be no activity behind them. Her nose was crushed, eyes swollen, the left almost completely closed up from injury. Her lower lip had split open. Her head hung drunkenly, the blood falling from her mouth in thick streams.

"Maybe your sisters will hear about what happened and take up your fight?" Gruff suggested hopefully. His arms then tightened and pulled.

Buttercup's head snapped up, her eyes newly alight. She tensed her own arms, pulling back against the large man's. He smiled at her struggle. She could already feel her shoulders giving up. She stared at him, a smile all her own appearing.

A red blast fired into Gruff's right eye. He suddenly dropped the girl and stumbled backwards. A short scream escaped his lips. His left hand rushed to cover his wound. Buttercup could see smoke breaking through the cracks in his fingers.

Buttercup kept herself afloat instead of touching the ground. Her head was level with his. She didn't want to miss this opportunity; her body twisted as her right arm pulled back.

Gruff's good eye bulged as anger creased his face. He spread his feet apart, right foot behind the left. He leaned on that rear foot, and brought his right arm all the way back. His whole body, feet, hips and shoulders, all turned with the fist, adding their force into what was already the likes of a contained nuclear blast.

As he turned, Gruff leaned forward, putting all his weight into his arm. He was throwing everything he had behind this one punch that rushed like a meteor towards Buttercup's face.

She was already invested in her own attack. She couldn't stop her own forward momentum now, and nothing was going to stop that giant fist.

Endorphins flew through her veins. Adrenaline levels spiked instantaneously. Time began to crawl. She saw every possibly outcome of the situation in that tiny moment. Like a beam of moonlight shooting through the branches of a dark forest, Buttercup could suddenly see victory.

Her head tilted to the left. As Gruff's arm blew past her it rubbed against her ear and shoulder, burning off part of her hoodie, and almost peeling her ear clean off. Her own right fist arched through the air, she too leaned all her weight behind her punch. Her knuckles landed square in Gruff's face. Right on top of his nose. She heard celery snap. Her shoulder felt like it was about to rip out from all the force put on it. But she powered through, turning all the way around in the air, flinging Gruff forward.

He bounced across the ground, landing face down almost a hundred feet away. Buttercup fell to her knees clutching a throbbing shoulder. Her whole right arm felt numb, and her knuckled were torn and bleeding. He was down, though, and that made it worth it. She stood and stumbled towards where Gruff lay.

"Done did learn ya good," she muttered over Gruff's body. Her jaw was swelling up, making it very difficult to speak.

There was a slow grunt. Gruff's hands moved under his shoulders and began to raise his body up. He pushed himself onto his knees. His face only looked slightly better than Buttercup's did. Buttercup quickly stood back up, but promptly fell down again when the muscles in her legs simply stopped working. Gruff's nose leaked red like a rusty shower. His right eye had a black ring around it, peppered with blisters. The iris had been scorched white. The eyelid was no longer there.

"Do you think we're finished?" Gruff rose to his feet, "Did you think that was enough?"

Buttercup lifted herself up, pure will the only thing keeping her legs from going liquid. She fit completely in Gruff's shadow.

He bent his knees, dragging his right leg behind the left as he did before. Both his fists were raised to eye level, extending out until his elbows only had a slight bend in them. The stance looked familiar to Buttercup. A type of karate she recognized from the days when she used to watch all those competitions.

Her right arm was still limp, her face looked like it had just been in a train accident. Her legs only barely worked. Still she stood her ground.

Then a rain of napalm fell from the sky. Millions of tiny red needles made little ticking sounds as they slashed into Gruff and bounced on the ground. Buttercup would have been caught in this downpour, but a blue blur pulled her out of the danger zone.

_Blossom! Bubbles! _Her mind screamed. She tried to smile. Those thoughts disappeared as quickly as they had been born. The person holding her had blond hair and blue eyes, but it wasn't Bubbles.

"Fantast–" Buttercup fainted in Boomer's arms. Brick and Butch continued firing their heat vision at Gruff a few seconds longer. Brick stopped first and began to fly away with Boomer. He had to slap Butch lightly on the shoulder to get him to stop too.

On the ground, Gruff looked as though he was about to leap after them, but he was standing atop the subway, and the ground finally collapsed under him, dropping him deep into darkness.

The three Rowdyruff Boys flew off, one with a damsel in his arms.

**A/N: Let me know what you think of this. I'll try to answer any questions you may have.**

**See ya next time.**


	3. Vs Brick

**A/N: This chapter took a little longer than planned due to some unforeseeable personal issues. But now things are back in working order, so hopefully the next one will come out a little faster (no promises though). Really let me know what you think about this chapter. I'm not as confident with it as the others because I'm straying further from the normal sorts of things I write. And super thanks to everyone who reviewed! It serves as great encouragement!**

Buttercup Vs The New World Order

Chapter 3:

Vs Brick

There was a knocking at the little red door. Someone had already busted the lock, so it swung open as soon as the fist touched it. The large man stepped into the house, "Hello?" Gruff spoke, "Anyone home?" He walked further into the building, closing the door gently behind him. When he stood in living room he heard a creaking. A blue door opened slightly and a white arm poked out.

"I'm armed!" a voice yelled.

"I can see that, but I'm not dangerous," Gruff shouted back.

The door opened slightly more and the Professor stuck his head out. He saw Gruff standing peacefully, but almost fell backwards at the sheer size of the man.

"Don't be afraid," Gruff went, "I know I look scary but I'm not here to cause any trouble," he raised his hands up as though he were surrendering, "You are the Professor, correct? The one who created the Powerpuff girls?"

The Professor nodded slowly.

"Excellent!" Gruff clapped his hands together, "I met one of them; Buttercup to be exact. We were in a little scuffle together. That's why," he gestured to the bandages around his eye, "I'm looking less than my best."

"Where is Buttercup? Is she alright?" asked the Professor, his arm no longer pointed at the man.

"Well. That's actually why I came to see you," Gruff sat on the couch, "Do you mind if I sit?" He didn't wait for a response, "We were together, but she was hurt pretty bad, and these three boys flew off with her."

"The Rowdyruff boys!" the Professor yelled. There was panic in his voice and face. His breath became labored.

"Yes! I think it was them. I couldn't remember the name, it was driving me crazy!" Gruff clapped his hands again, "They took her, and I ways hoping you might have a way of tracking them down."

The Professor shuddered, "Do you know if she's still alive?"

"When I saw her last she was. I don't think the boys killed her. I mean, why take her away to do that? No. I'm sure she's still alive."

Miss Keane had heard most of the conversation, and had come up to see the man. Just like the Professor, she was also struck with how large the man was, "Are you a superhero too?" she asked gently.

Gruff looked whimsically to the ceiling, "I don't know if I'd go that far."

"But you're fighting against that man on the TV?"

Gruff's face became serious, "You won't find another man in this whole world who despises Captain Anarchy more than I do."

Relief washed over Miss Keane's face, "I'm so glad! I thought she might be alone out there!"

"So I take it that Blossom and Bubbles aren't around to help?" asked Gruff.

The Professor shook his head, "We haven't heard from either of them. Blossom might be in Africa somewhere, but we're not sure where Bubbles is."

"Africa, huh," Gruff nodded his head. He stood up to leave, "Thank you, but I think its high time I left."

'Wait!" Miss Keane ran up to Gruff, "Don't leave yet. You look hungry. Stay for dinner."

Gruff laughed slightly, "Well I suppose you could twist my arm into staying."

"Great!" She paused, "I'm sorry, but I don't think I caught your name."

"Oh my god!" Gruff almost screamed, a hand went up over his mouth, "I can' believe I was so rude!" his excitement died down slightly, "You can call me Greg."

# # #

There was noise before there was light. Buttercup's eyes remained closed, but she had woken up. In the same way that eyes must adjust to bright light after being in the dark, Buttercup's ears could not make out the noise she was hearing. It was too blurry. For a few seconds there was just darkness and meaningless noise. Buttercup wondered if she had died in the fight against Gruff, and if this was Hell.

She only heard noise, but she felt pain. Her face seemed too large. Buttercup wondered if her shoulder was still where she had left it. Her mouth shuddered open as a groan passed through. She wanted to raise her arm to feel her face, and she could even feel the electrical impulses shooting around her brain, telling her arm to do just that, but it never happened.

The noise around her finally began to turn into actual sounds. She didn't recognize it at first, but the tones grew heavier. Harder. The vocals sounded familiar.

_"The murder in your eyes is just the will to stay alive!"_

Yup. It was _Anthrax. _Not her favorite, but better than the repetition that came with pop music. She groaned again, louder this time. Buttercup's quest to open her eyes proved far more difficult than she imagined it would. It felt like her eyelids were pinned down with weights. Eventually the fight was won, and her eyes began creeping open. Like with the sounds, all the light that poured in was without shape or distinction. A blurry figure suddenly stood over her. She assumed it was a person.

"Are you waking up?"

_What does it look like, jackass! _Was what she wanted to shout out. Instead there was only a gurgling noise.

"Hang on," the voice said. Very gently, this person grabbed her right arm, and turned Buttercup onto her left shoulder. A thick string of blood fell from her mouth, pooling on the floor.

"I'll be right back."

The figure disappeared.

Buttercup's sight was slowly returning to normal. She could make out the white sheets she rested on, a small trail of blood leading off the left edge. There was a small table with an old heavy ghetto blaster sitting atop. That's where the music was coming from. Next to the table was a tired looking chair.

She began coughing. There was never a time in Buttercup's life where a cough felt threatening. But this current fit seemed like it may be her last. Blood shot out like buckshot from a shotgun, creating a red mist in the air before settling to the floor. She could feel something stuck in her throat somewhere. When it came up it felt like a piece of potato skin. It flew from her mouth with one last mighty hack, landing with the rest of the blood on the floor. A fat strip of coagulated red.

Buttercup fell onto her back again, a scarlet trail going down her cheek. The ceiling was wooden with a few lights hanging down. She figured she was in a basement somewhere. Steps were now approaching, definitely more than one person. She couldn't move her head enough to look for the door. Turned out that she didn't need to.

Three faces looked over her. All of them were familiar.

"Told you she was awake," said Butch.

Boomer held a small flashlight over her face. He moved it slowly left and right, "Not only is she awake," he said while putting the light away, "but she is almost fully conscious."

Buttercup tried to say something, but when she opened her mouth (which felt like it needed a vice to get moving) no sound came out.

"That guy really did a number on you," said Brick., "You've been sleeping for eight days."

Buttercup's vision began to shift left and right. The blurriness came back. She passed out again.

# # #

She knew she was dreaming, but that didn't stop it from being strange. She was in a bathtub with her sisters. There were bubbles everywhere, floating both atop the water and through the air. Buttercup thought it was odd as they hadn't bathed together since they were children. What struck her as more odd was the fact that the bathtub was floating in the middle of space.

"I know this is a dream, but I might as well ask; where are you guys?" asked Buttercup.

Bubbles suddenly flew out of the tub. Blossom raised a pointer finger to her lips and made a shushing noise.

"Figures," sighed Buttercup.

Her bathtub had become a mine-cart. She was still sitting in it, but Blossom was gone. The cart was being pushed by Brick, Butch and Boomer.

"Hey. Let me out of this thing!" said Buttercup. The boys didn't hear her, "Hey!"

They tipped the cart onto it's side, dumping Buttercup to the floor. Out of the cart also fell coal, but more coal came out then could ever possibly fit into such a small vehicle. Buttercup was trapped under thousands of black rocks. It began crushing her, she could feel the weight throughout her entire body. The coals fell over her eyes. Everything went dark.

That's when her eyes snapped open. Her vision hardly needed to adjust this time, but the pain she had felt in the dream had been real. Her whole body was still sore from the fight with Gruff. Buttercup brought her hand to her face. There were bandages. She began pulling on them when a voice was heard.

"Probably not the best idea just yet," it said.

Buttercup stopped and turned towards the voice. Looking back was Butch. His face had no discernible emotion to it.

Buttercup opened her mouth. The sound that came out was like a door that hadn't been opened in years. It creaked slowly, but words eventually came, "Why . . ." that was all she could manage for the moment.

"you're still not a hundred percent," said Butch, "You should save your strength."

The words did not come out insulting, but Buttercup was offended by them. _Save it for what?! _Her mind yelled. Her body began to pull itself up onto her elbows. It was a shaky ascent. She groaned from the effort it took to move even that paltry distance. She got it so her back was resting against the wall, "Why," she began again, "did you save me?"

Butch sighed, "I really don't know. It was Brick's decision."

"Where are we?" she asked next.

"In the broad sense; we're in Ireland. 'Fraid I can't be more specific than that. Don't know what province, or town, or whatever." Butch looked at her. His face was still without emotion, but something in his eyes was off. Buttercup couldn't quite figure out what it was. She almost thought that he was concerned for her, but he didn't look like he wanted her to get better. "Do you remember anything?" he asked.

Flashes of her last fight ran across Buttercup's mind. She won, right? There was something else, too.

"I remember hearing _Anthrax_," she said.

Butch nodded, "You woke up for a little bit yesterday. Before that you were asleep for over a week."

She recalled in brief snips of memory the conversation with the Rowdyruff Boys from yesterday, but still she was surprised, "That long? Didn't ever think that could happen."

Boomer walked into the room, "I thought I heard something,"he went besides Buttercup, "Lay back down."

Buttercup didn't move.

"Alrighty," Boomer grabbed her shoulders and pushed Buttercup back down into a laying position. She let out a small gasp, "You're fine," Boomer said, "Now you know to listen." Buttercup had a harsh look in her eyes, "I'm only trying to help you get better."

Boomer had the most carefree face Buttercup had ever seen in an adult. He was fully grown, but still had an almost childish look to him without looking any younger than he was. He held her eyelids open as wide as they would go, looking deep into each eye one at a time. His fingers gently pressed against her wrist.

Boomer nodded his head, "You'll probably make a full recovery in a few more days, but you're going to be stuck in bed until then." he began to walk towards the door. As he left, Buttercup began to move again. Once more she brought herself up and leaned against the wall. She swung her legs over the side of the bed. She was now sitting up without any support. Boomer looked back at her before leaving, "Or don't listen to me. What do I know?" He was gone.

Buttercup's face was still turned towards the door when Butch said, "You should probably listen to him. He's usually right about these sorts of things."

Buttercup wanted to turn her head suddenly and fiercely, but moving was still painful, so it was a very slow turn, very deliberate. When Butch saw it he was reminded of the sort of look Bruce Lee would give when turning towards his enemy. It sent a single shiver up his back. It was her eyes. They weren't angry, or hate filled, or anything like that. In fact, Butch couldn't figure out exactly which emotion he saw in those eyes. The only description that seemed to make sense to him was "Infinity."

When she spoke her eyes were normal again, "Like I'd take medical advice from some toilet bred delinquent," she used her hands to slowly lower her feet to the ground. Once there she tried putting her weight on them. She feel over. Butch was able to catch her before she hit the ground, "Don't touch me!" she screamed as loud as she could in her current state.

Butch let go, and Buttercup fell to the ground, "If that's how you wanna treat people trying to help, then fine! You're on your own!" He left, slamming the door to the room shut behind him.

Buttercup was folded over herself on the floor. She was surprised at how comfortable it felt.

_ What can you do from down there?_

"Not much," she whispered through clenched teeth, then she began to push herself up.

She got to her knees before falling again. She pulled herself over to the wall and climbed up the side. Her knees were still shaking, but she was standing. Her eyes were tight, tears rolled thinly down her cheeks. Then, seemingly without warning, her eyes blew open, revealing jade orbs, cracked with red lines.

"Aha!" she screamed, "Who's hurt? Not me! I'm ready for another ten rounds!" The door opened back up. Buttercup's back was towards it, and she couldn't really turn to see without risking falling, "Screw you, Boomer! You too, Butch!"

"I'll give you one more guess," said the person standing behind her. His voice was not so much harsh as it simply was without gentleness.

"Brick! You still sound like an arrogant douche!" The shaking of her legs was growing worse the longer she stood up. Buttercup's body wanted to collapse, but she refused to let that happen while Brick stood watching.

He laughed slightly, "Maybe I still am an arrogant douche." Buttercup could hear his footsteps getting closer to her. He stood right behind her, less than two feet away, "You should be resting."

"I'm doing just fine," Buttercup's eyes shut again from the throbbing pain all over her body.

Gently Brick put his hands on her shoulders. Buttercup was surprised, and the subtlety of the touch made her blush slightly, "Sto–"

His hands went tight. Her right shoulder exploded with pain. She let out a sharp cry. He tossed her back over to the bed. It was knocked away and Buttercup fell to the ground again. Now she could see Brick. He was tall, taller than his brothers; maybe six and a half feet. His eyes burned. He was bald; it served to draw more attention to his crimson eyes.

"I didn't save you so we could all become friends, Buttercup," he said, "And I will throw you back where I found you if the mood strikes me."

_Go ahead! I'm ready for it!_

She held onto that right shouldered, "Why did you save me?"

Brick walked over and grabbed a fistful of Buttercup's hair, the bandages around her face were loosened. He lifted her up, the pain in Buttercup's shoulder made the tug on her hair seemed less intense. Her feet were off the ground when Brick said, "I felt like it, but my opinions have been known to change randomly and severely."

Buttercup punched him in the chest, but she hadn't the strength to even move him. She was dropped back onto the bed.

Buttercup began coughing. By the time she stopped, Brick was gone.

# # #

It was a slow few days for Buttercup. She had stayed in bed for most of that time. She hadn't seen Brick since their last encounter. Boomer came in and out periodically, checking on her and helping her get back on her feet with his own sort of home brew physical therapy. Butch spent much of his time in the room with her, his old CD player always pumping out heavy sounds. Boomer had taken the bandages off her face two days prior. The swelling had almost fully gone away, and the black eyes were now a faded purple. There were still a few stitches keeping her lower lip in one piece. Her nose had healed, but now was permanently, though only slightly, crooked to the right.

She was walking around the room. Butch was nodding his head to the music. The boys hadn't let Buttercup out of the room; she was going stir crazy. She stretched her right arm out in front of her, flexing it a bit. She could move it, but kept it in a sling most of the time.

"I need to get out of here, Butch," the boy acted like he didn't hear anything, "I need to to find my sisters." She was pacing the room.

"We wait for Brick to say we move, then we move," Butch said plainly without looking at the girl.

"I'm getting sick of your music, too."

This made Butch look up suddenly, "I suppose you'd prefer some factory churned pop music?"

Buttercup laughed out loud, "I wasn't knocked around that much!"

Butch tried his best to hold it back but a laugh still came out, "So what _would _you like to listen to?"

"You got _The __Beatles?"_

"I do not. I _do _have _Mastodon, _the _Beatles _of Metal," Butch said proudly.

Buttercup looked shocked, "How does a person say they like music and _not _have the _Beatles?! _They _are_ Rock'n Roll!"

"They're okay, I guess," said Butch with a shrug, "But Rock'n Roll wasn't really perfected until _Motorhead _came along and changed the definition of heavy."

"Now I definitely have to leave. You keep talking crazy," Buttercup went to the door. It opened before she put her hand on the knob. In walked Boomer holding a large plastic bag.

"Hey there, Butters! How're you feeling?" he said upon entering.

In response, Buttercup slugged him across the arm.

Boomer rubbed the new sore spot, "You've gotta stop doing that! It was cute before, when you weren't even strong enough to lift a fork, but now it hurts!"

"Then you've gotta stop calling me Butters!"

"I find that arrangement to be unacceptable, Butters," Boomer ducked under Buttercup's swinging arm and stepped behind her. "Put a pin in that anger; I come with gifts!" He opened the bag and pulled out a lime green t-shirt, "Cotton," he said, "the fabric of our lives."

Buttercup snatched the bag away from the blue (though not glum) boy. She did a quick rifling through its contents, "Green," she said going through it, "Green. Green. Green!" she looked up at Boomer, "Why is everything in here green?!"

"I thought it was your favorite color?" Boomer said innocently, "And Butch told me he likes it when you wear green."

"I didn't say that!"

Buttercup was unaffected, "I _like _green, but I also like variety."

"There are various different shades in there," said Boomer with extreme candor, "You'd think anything would be better than continuing to wear mine and Butch's leftovers."

Its true, Buttercup was indeed wearing one of Butch's shirts, black, way too big, and she had on a pair of Boomer's jeans, held up with a homemade cord belt. Buttercup's claim that everything in the bag was green was an exaggeration, though. Most of it was green, but a lot of it was black as well. She pulled out a dark pair of jeans then looked through some more, "you got me one bra and a dozens thongs. Great work." she threw out a very forced thumbs-up.

"Underwear has always been optional here," Boomer tried to say it as though it were a magician's slight of hand.

"Yeah yeah yeah," Buttercup said quickly, "Get out. I'm changing." Boomer complied, blowing a kiss before leaving. Butch lingered, "You too, Butch."

Butch went towards the door, "You know I didn't ever say that, right?"

"Right."

Butch left the room. A second later his head popped back in, "But you do look good in green." He was gone.

_Duh. _She thought.

# # #

For the first time in over a week, Buttercup was dressed in her own clothes. It was nice to wear something that actually fit. She left the room to find the boys. She was surprised that the room connected to the one she was in was actually quite nice. She was expecting it to be a dilapidated pile of crap. All three boys were in the room, Brick in the center with his brothers on either side. It looked like they were waiting for her.

She blew out a high pitched whistle, "So that's why you guys were keeping me sequestered. You didn't want me to see that this place was actually nice."

"No. We kept you in that room so you could get better." It had come from Brick. Like before he did not look angry or mean, he just didn't look kind. "How's the shoulder?" he asked without compassion.

"Feels like there's a huge hole through the middle," said Buttercup while rolling the joint in question, "Its in good enough condition to kick your ass, though, if that's why you're asking."

Brick began to walk towards her.

Boomer didn't hesitate to step in front of his older brother. He put a hand on Brick's chest, "Whoa whoa, let's step back a moment. She's not fully recovered yet. We didn't save her just to beat her up again, did we?"

Brick roughly shoved Boomer aside and stepped up to Buttercup. He was a good ten inches taller than she, but their faces were close.

"Is that what you want, Buttercup? A fight?" he said very simply.

"Yeah," she said, her body remaining fixed where it was, her right hand pulling the sling off her body,"I think I owe you a bit from before."

Neither of the two looked angry, but the air was tense. Boomer stepped away, throwing his hands up in the air as if to say, "I tried my best!" Even Butch stepped back a little bit. He was unsure of what he should be feeling right now.

"When was the last time we fought?" asked Brick.

"When we were kids," Buttercup answered.

"Our families fought each other then. I don't think I ever gave you my undivided attention."

Buttercup smiled, "Same here."

Brick backed away, "I'll see you outside," then he left through a door behind him. Buttercup began walking the same way.

"I wouldn't," said Boomer very suddenly, "You're still hurt, and Brick . . ." he struggled to find the correct words. Eventually he just gave up, "Don't fight Brick."

Buttercup pushed past him without saying anything. Boomer and Butch looked at each other, then ran out too.

It was almost cold outside. The temperature hovered around 70 degrees Fahrenheit, but standing in the sun was incredibly comfortable, especially when you've been trapped inside for so long. She stared out across the green hills, fissures of gray rock bursting through along the way. _Ireland, _she thought, _what a way to be introduced to a country. _She breathed in the air, it tasted fresh. They must have been miles away from the nearest city. From the looks of things, they were pretty damn far from all forms of civilization.

Buttercup looked back at the house she walked out of. "House" was a very complimentary way of describing its outside appearance, the door was built directly into the ground. _How did the boys find a place like this?_ She wondered. It blended almost perfectly into the surroundings; it would be almost impossible to find by eye alone.

Brick was standing a ways off, staring at Buttercup with his intense eyes. She gently raised herself into the air and floated towards him. Butch and Boomer ran out to watch whatever would happen next.

Brick brought himself up so that he was flying at the same hight as Buttercup. Storm clouds were gathering in the sky.

"Have you ever read _Paradise Lost?" _Brick asked.

Buttercup hesitantly shook her head. She was put off byhow out of place the question was, and thought that it might be some sort of bizarre trick.

"After being banished to Hell," he began, "One of the fallen angels says, 'we never would have challenged God if we knew the true extent of his power.'"

Buttercup had nothing to say.

A distant blast of thunder sounded. The two began.

From a distance it only looked like a red and green light repeatedly crashing into one another, But Butch and Boomer could see each punch and every kick. The sounds of their strikes echoed, and made it seem like the storm was already fully upon them.

Butch asked Boomer without taking his eyes off the battle, "Do you think he's gonna kill her?"

"It doesn't really matter what I think," he answered, "I _know _we can't stop him if he is."

The idea of trying to stop Brick from doing anything seemed ludicrous to Butch. Such thoughts had never formed in his mind before. And then it hit him. That idea that had been living in his subconscious for so long now; the one that he had never dared put words to. A feeling that Boomer would more readily admit, but Butch had felt just as long.

Brick horrified him.

And there was nothing he could ever do to escape that.

The fight had only been going on for five minutes, but Buttercup could already feel the strain on her shoulder. If she wanted to win this fight she would have to do it quickly.

They were about to clash once more. As he came rushing at her, Buttercup twisted her body with his momentum, pushing all his force past her, putting his back to her. She pulled her right arm around his neck, her left elbow collided with his skull. A repeated attempt was blocked.

Then something strange happened. Buttercup could feel something pulling her away from Brick. At first she thought it was one of his brothers interrupting their battle. When she turned her head there was no one there. She didn't know what was going on, but it was getting stronger. Brick dropped his own elbow into her gut, just enough to get her to loosen her grip. The same feeling that was pulling on her suddenly climaxed, and she was flung from his body.

Buttercup bounced off the ground like a ball. She caught herself in the air before crashing again. From a distance she could see a soft red light pushing away from Brick's body. He took in a deep breath, and the light seemed to follow the air into his lungs. He turned fully towards her. His eyes were glowing ever so slightly. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Brick's arm pointed to her, two fingers extended outwards. A red energy began flowing around him. It folded in on itself over his outstretched arm. It took the form of sharp fire.

Hephaestus himself could not have hammered out better lightning than what shot from Brick's fingers. It blinked across the gulf between the two combatants. No thunder followed its trail. Buttercup knew she couldn't dodge, it made normal lightning look sluggish, but still she had time to think.

No. That's not quite true. She wasn't really thinking, thoughts were just swirling around her brain. It was almost like she was remembering something. Not an event, but a feeling, or an idea. Something that wasn't fully created the first time she felt it. It was the same feeling she had during the fight with Gruff.

She could see the answer. The lightning was no longer a threat. Her hands stretched forward, palms out, fingers splayed. The instant she was stuck she felt a change within her body. The light surged into her like a bleed wound in reverse. Brick had breathed in that energy from before, but Buttercup had consumed his lightning. It filled her entirely. She could feel it flowing with her blood, charging her muscles. It was heavy. She was forced to touch back on the ground. It was heavy, but it was hers now.

Brick stared. Buttercup couldn't see it, but his brothers could. It was the first time they had seen Brick look at something with awe in his eyes.

Buttercup's arms spread wide. They came back together in a cacophonous clap that bled a chaotic green light. It cracked the sky with raw power. A thunder like the voice of God blasted as the air became super heated in a flash. Brick was able to raise his arms in defense, but was still shot off back by the force. His feet traced the ground as he skidded to a halt, still standing upright. Before his arms dropped back down to counterattack, Buttercup was behind him. She kicked across his spine, bending him backwards slightly.

Her legs bent, one hand touched the ground. Buttercup burst from the Earth with enough force to carry Brick with her. He floated with his chest exposed to her. The green Powerpuff raised both hands heavenwards, clenched them into a single tight ball, and came down on Brick like pissed off gravity. For Buttercup it was cathartic. For Brick it was painful.

His landing caused a small explosion of dirt. Buttercup didn't waste time waiting for him to get up. She slammed her knees on his shoulders, pinning him to the ditch he had created.

"You were talkin' pretty cocky back there. You must feel silly now that I've got you beat?" Buttercup said.

Brick was pinned, but still had limited movement in his arms. He was able to fold his hands under his head all casual like with Buttercup still on him, "You can't beat someone who isn't fighting."

Buttercup's heart was working overtime to keep her body fueled. That comment made it pump harder, "I can't _defeat _someone who isn't fighting back, but I can sure as shit _beat _them!" Her right fist was raised above his head.

"Then what are you waiting for?"

_Do it! Kill him! He deserves it! Do it! KILL HIM!_

Blood was rushing through her veins fast enough for her to feel it. Her skull pulsed. Her thighs and arms seemed heavier. At the same time, though, she felt stronger. Stronger than ever before. Some of that power Brick had fired at her remained. It was inside, threatening to corrupt. Her lips quivered; she wasn't sure why.

Brick moved his arms. He was able to delicately take hold of one of her hands. He laid it round his throat, "I want you–" he said.

_DoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitdoitDO IT!_

_ "_–to do it!" his voice was very low, but held in it all the intensity of a shout.

Her temperature seemed high. Buttercup held her hand around Brick's neck, her fingers lightly squeezed. Her breathe became heavy despite the fact that she didn't need to breath, "Why'd you save me, Brick? . . . What do you want from me?"

His hands moved, settling on the upper reaches of her thighs, the tips of his fingers pressed lightly on the inner part where thigh met hip, it was reminiscent of when he grabbed her shoulders, "I don't want anything _from _you."

Her body was hot. She was beginning to sweat. What was he saying? Did the answer even matter? The fight with Brick had got her blood boiling. Being kept in a single room for so long had made her angry. The fight with Gruff had made her feel weak, but now . . . now she felt like a whole new person. Someone better than Buttercup of the Powerpuff Girls. Something greater.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked again.

_What are you waiting for?_

She leaned down and pressed her lips to his.

At a distance, still waiting at the entrance to their little home, Boomer and Butch saw what was happening.

"Aye aye aye," said Boomer sadly, "how can we be the _Three __Caballeros_for Halloween this year with a girl hanging around?" Boomer had wanted the words to come out sarcastically, comically, but they only sounded sad. He looked at Butch. Butch seemed confused, he knew what he saw, of course, but he was having trouble understanding why it was happening. Boomer clapped his brother on the back, "Come on, bro. Let's leave 'em alone." The two boys retreated back into the house just as rain started to fall.

The thunderstorm was fully upon them. Brick and Buttercup, embracing, rose into the sky. Into the storm.

**A/N: Like I said, straying from what I normally do. Hopefully you guys still find it enjoyable. I wanted to portray the Rowdyruff Boys differently in this than you would see them in most other fics while still making it feel like the Rowdyruff Boys we all know. Let me know what you think. I'll try to answer any questions anyone might have, and comments are always appreciated. **


	4. Vs Kill O Meter

**A/N: Yay another chapter! Thanks to everyone who reviewed and Favorited and all that! You're the "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" on my "I Can't Believe It's Not Bread!" The chapter all seem to be running about the same length. I didn't plan for that to happen, it just did. Hopefully people like this chapter as much as they seem to be liking the others.**

**On a different note. Don't expect the next chapter to come out any time soon. I'm juggling multiple writing projects right now, and I feel too much attention has been given to this one, so I'm gonna switch gears. I don't think I'll be away too long. Maybe an extra week or two.**

Buttercup Vs The New World Order  
Chapter 4  
Vs Kill O Meter

The dinner had been delicious. Gruff had returned to the Professor's house at least two or three times after that. They would talk friendly with one another. Gruff always made sure that he (the Professor) and Miss Keane were well supplied. They hadn't heard from any of the girls, but Gruff did his best to inspire confidence that they would return.

After one of these visits (Miss Keane had made a delicious pasta that night), Gruff was required, under penalty of being pestered, to check in with Captain Anarchy and his merry gang of ne'er do wells. Gruff thought that the whole ordeal of weekly checkups was contradictory to the whole "order from chaos" motto of anarchists, but he complied as it gave him the opportunity to insult both the Captain and Dirge, and he might also get to spare a few words with the lovely Jane Doe. Oh, how he felt so "High School" around her!

He traveled into the heart of the city. He would need to get to the top of one of the still standing skyscrapers if he wanted his signal to reach the others. There was hardly any lootings going on. Most people had fled the dangerous cities, taking to the countryside in a ironic sort of reverse Industrial Boom. _Oh, there was a boom, alright, _thought Gruff, _A boom for the ages. _The thought of all recorded history possibly being lost in this whole spectacle caused Gruff a tiny moment of hesitation. Then he realized, without the rest of history to compete with, it would be much more likely that people would remember him when he was dead. This caused him to laugh out loud. He was pretty sure he would never die.

It took him about an hour to make it to the city and find a tower that fit his needs (there were many others, but they were too damaged to climb). Gruff had never been very good with computers and such things, so he was glad that the laptop setup he was using was incredibly simple. At first the screen was black while he was syncing up with the others. Before any of their faces appeared on his screen, Gruff heard the voice of Kill O Meter shout, "Christ! What happened to your face!? You look like you just got out of Mexican prison!"

Their faces could now be seen. A majority of the screen was taken up by Kill O Meter, the faces of the other five were lined up vertically along on the side in much smaller windows. Captain Anarchy then began to speak; as he did, Kill O Meter's face was replaced in the main window.

"More importantly, tell us why you're so late?" he asked angrily. There was a delay in between speakers as the signal traveled around the globe.

"I was taking care of a few personal things," Gruff answered quickly.

"I didn't send you to Townsville so you could take care of your personal problems!" The Captain screamed. His image distorted momentarily with his rage, "I sent you there to take care of an obvious problem! And from the look of your face I can see that you failed!"

Gruff didn't flinch. Captain Anarchy was right, he had failed in killing or otherwise taking care of Buttercup. "She had help," he said calmly.

Lady Wicca perked up, "One of her sisters?"

Gruff told them all about his Battle with Buttercup, the loss of his eye, and how they were interrupted by the Rowdyruff Boys.

"Never liked those boys," Lady Wicca said, "They were just a male knockoffs of the girls with none of the charm."

"I agree," said Gruff.

"Do you think they'll cause trouble?" asked Kill O Meter.

"That is what they do."

Captain Anarchy let out a frustrated sigh, "It seems like the universe is purposefully getting in my way," he muttered, "Do you at least know where they went?!"

Gruff shook his head, then said, "But I have it on good authority that Blossom might be in Africa."

"Oh very good! Very _Specific!" _cried Kill O Meter desperately, "I guess I could just start running around the whole continent, and I'll find her come next decade!"

"Can't Lady Wicca conjure up a divination, or something?" asked Dirge.

"That's not how my power works. I can't pinpoint a single person on a planet of billions. Especially someone I've never met," she answered, "Though . . ." she trailed off momentarily, "I did feel a disturbance earlier."

"A disturbance in the _force?" _asked Jane Doe dryly. Gruff laughed.

Lady Wicca groaned, "No. Something unnatural. I had felt it a few times before, but never paid much attention to it."

"Maybe its one of the girls?" Dirge whispered.

"Can you tell us where this 'disturbance' was coming from?" Captain Anarchy asked.

"Hhhm . . . Europe . . . England maybe."

"Better than Africa," Kill O Meter muttered while scratching his head, "But still not very specific."

"I'll start heading closer. Maybe I'll be able to get a stronger reading," said Lady Wicca.

"I'll get over there right now," Kill O Meter said, "Maybe some of the locals noticed whatever disturbance you felt."

"Captain," began Gruff, "Send me over as well. I can take car of any problem that might arise."

"No!" yelled Dirge suddenly, "I am the one most deserving of revenge!"

_Most deserving of a haircut! _Gruff thought, and he was about to vocalize it when Captain Anarchy spoke, "Neither of you are going! You've both had your chance. Past experiences dictate that we should no longer throw ourselves at the opposition one at a time. Especially if we're dealing with more than one enemy this time." He rubbed his hand across his chin, "And the Muse of battle has just inspired me with the perfect plan."

"Yeesh," Gruff whispered to himself. No one heard him.

# # #

Buttercup was waking up. The bed was unfamiliar, but much more comfortable than the one she had been sleeping in the past few days. The thick blanket atop her wrinkled as her hands passed across the cotton landscape it created. Eventually hands found face. Buttercup rubbed her eyes, the crusted sands of sleep pushing slightly into her tear ducts. The room she was in seemed very much like the one she had been stying in, only it was bigger. Better furnishings too. The bed she was on was a Queen sized one, and the blankets were soft and thick.

Buttercup was lying on her belly, pillow squashed between her breasts and chin. She looked around. No one else was in the room. Memories of the previous night were flush in her mind. She buried her head into the pillow. She was not embarrassed by what had happened, not really. But there was still something uncomfortable about the whole thing. There was no denying that she was attracted to Brick. It wasn't the whole "bad boy" thing, she had long since outgrown that. It was something else.

It was the way he treated her. Not necessarily mean, but he refused to take any shit from her. He didn't let the fact that she was a famous super hero affect his opinion. He didn't let the fact that she was severely injured change the way he treated her. He didn't treat her special, and for Buttercup that was a welcome change of pace.

And there was a power between them! Buttercup had felt it even before they had sex. She would never be able to describe it herself except with vague descriptions. It was like a sudden swelling of ambition. The time with Brick made her feel capable of anything. Made her feel like the world belonged to her if only she reached out and grabbed it. And that scared her.

She sat up in the bed. The covers fell off of her. Instinctively she grabbed them back up to cover her chest. It didn't look like any of her cloths made it into the room with her, but Buttercup did notice a small bag off to the side of the bed. Something about it made her feel like it was waiting for her. The way the opening was pointed right at her. Inside was a new set of cloths.

"How do they all seem to know my size?" she said to herself.

Seeing as the only other option was leave the room naked (which was considered), Buttercup put the outfit on. Besides the usual fare of underwear there was a black skirt that stopped about four inches above her knee. Buttercup did not care much for skirts, but wore it out of necessity. The top waiting for her, hidden until just now by the skirt, was a red t-shirt. Buttercup held it in front of her a moment, considering the implications. _Cute, _she thought in an ironic sort of way. She put it on and was disappointed with how well it stuck to her curves. It fit, but didn't feel comfortable.

Also in the bag was a black pair of high heeled shoes, the sort of thing a different girl might wear to an expensive date, and there was black stockings. Buttercup stared at the stockings, fishnets to be more exact, with a look of utter disbelief. _Why. The hell. Would I wear this? _She thought. She threw the shoes and the stockings back into the bag, and exited the room.

This room led right into the main room wherein sat Boomer. Butch was standing, back to the world, in front of an oven, a tasty smell coming from his obscured front. Boomer was sitting on the opposite side of where Buttercup came in from, in a chair with a book in front of him. The cover was torn, and the spine had been folded so much that nothing could be read. Without looking up from the book, Boomer spoke.

"Rise and shine, Butters."

She gave him a sour look. Not in the mood for a playful scuffle, Buttercup ignored the blue and asked Butch, "Whatcha making? Smells pretty good."

Butch didn't answer her directly. A small, grumbling, unintelligible sound came from his mouth. He shifted his body so that Buttercup couldn't even see his profile. His hands were in front of him, working at something she couldn't quite see. As he turned his back his hands began moving as though fueled by anger.

Buttercup didn't take his reaction personally, instead focusing entirely on Boomer, "Where'd your other brother go?"

"Brick?" began Boomer, "He disappears every now and then. I don't know where he goes."

"Well can I leave him a note or something?"

"Why?" Boomer finally took his eyes away from his book.

"I need to go find my sisters. You know? Save the world and all that."

Boomer shook his head, eyes returning to the pages before him, "No deal, Butters. We don't move without Brick's say so."

"Is he your master, or something?" Buttercup crossed her arms, eyes on the verge of incinerating Boomer's book.

Boomer could sense her stare pressing down on him. He put the book away, and looked at her with dark, humorless eyes, "I don't think you could understand." Buttercup saw in his gaze the seriousness of the words. He then went right back to his book, "I'm not gonna fight with you about this."

Butch's voice suddenly came through, "Its okay if you fight with her, Boomer," his back was still towards the other two, "If you hit her, she might just sleep with you too."

Buttercup turned her head suddenly. Even Boomer looked shocked. Buttercup's eyes were burning. She almost lost complete control over her heat vision, but was able to maintain.

_Why maintain? Doesn't he deserve it? He can't talk to you like that! Punish him!_

The muscles in her arms began to spasm imperceptibly. She began taking steps towards Butch, his back still turned. Though she couldn't see it, Boomer was looking on nervously. Buttercup's injured shoulder throbbed as though in prediction of battle, "Say that again!"

Butch finally looked over to her, his chin just peaking over his shoulder, eyes glowering. Because of the shadows in the room his sclera looked black, the irises seemed huge and darker than should be possible, a soft green glow floated around the edges.

"Say that again." Buttercup repeated slowly.

Butch's hands shook. Suddenly the pan in his hands fell to the ground, spilling the eggs he had been making all over the floor. He stood over the oven, fists twisting the metal front into a useless knot. His body turned, but it seemed as though Butch was purposefully avoiding making eye contact with Buttercup. She tried to block his path as he began to move towards the exit, but Butch pushed right past her. He was gone before any more words could be said.

Boomer let out a tiny sigh of relief, "He'll calm down in a little bit."

"What the hell's his problem?!" Buttercup screamed. The ground shook a little.

Boomer brought his hands to the sides of his head, "No need for the yelling."

"I can't believe he said that!"

"Don't worry about him. He'll work it all out of his system eventually." Boomer went back to his book.

"What a dick! Why'd he get so upset?"

Boomer didn't bother to look up from his book, "I think he might have a little crush on you."

Buttercup's anger seemed to evaporate in wake of her surprise, "Really?"

Boomer shrugged, "He didn't tell me specifically, but in his own way I think he really likes you."

"Great," said Buttercup, throwing her hands up in frustration, "The unstable guy likes me."

"If it makes you feel any better I think a part of him hates you a lot too."

"That does nothing to make this day better." Buttercup dropped herself into the chair next to Boomer.

"I should be mad at you too," said Boomer. Buttercup gave him a questioning look. He continued, "He was making breakfast for me," Boomer's words were dryer than uncooked rice. Buttercup sat quietly for a moment, then laughter escaped in a powerful burst. Boomer looked at her, "Don't laugh. Poets are gonna be dedicating sonnets to Butch's scrambled eggs one day."

Buttercup's laughter faded into her words, "I'll keep that in mind the next time I'm angry at him. So now what do we do for breakfast?"

Boomer eyed the broken oven, "I guess we'll have to scrounge around for something to eat. Like a pack of dogs."

The two left the little home.

# # #

Brick was floating above it all. Back to the sun, star speckled darkness on all sides, the only thing he could see was Earth. He could see it, but his eyes were closed as though in meditation. Brick could see most anything now, even without looking. He knew where things would be before they even started to move. To him it all blended into a single line of sight. He felt that he knew how this whole scenario with Captain Anarchy was going to turn out long before it actually happened. Maybe he didn't quite know the specifics, but he knew how it would end. A part of him always knew.

It was the result of his new powers. No. New wasn't the right word to use. The powers had always been with him, he just wasn't aware of them. He wondered if his brothers also had this power hidden away. The Powerpuff Girls might have it as well. He doubted it. Only he had it. That made sense to him. Being the only one. That's why he never told Boomer or Butch about his discovery. The power that allowed him to do almost anything.

His eyes snapped open. The broad view in his mind was suddenly replaced with the focus of actual sight. He could see down to Ireland. Butch flew out of their home. A few moments later Buttercup and Boomer came out as well, making their way to a more populated area of the country.

This upset Brick. He could see the outcome of most everything, but the actions of Buttercup always were distorted. He was beginning to think this was because she was starting to discover a power similar to his own (though Brick thought there was no way she could ever be as strong as he. That idea was ridiculous).

Brick began to descend upon his brother and Buttercup. He wasn't angry, nor was he happy. If anything he looked concerned. Concerned that Boomer was moving without first having Brick tell him to. Brick was ready to drop on them suddenly and powerfully. Then he saw something coming. Something was about to happen to Boomer and Buttercup. Brick wasn't sure what it was, Buttercup's presence was distorting his view of what's to come. Brick stopped. He didn't like to go into situations where he couldn't see the outcome. He had done it before with his battle against the green Powerpuff, but that was to test her abilities. He decided to wait and see what would happen before stepping in himself.

# # #

Buttercup and Boomer had made their way to one of the smaller towns. It was entirely unaffected by the attacks of Captain Anarchy. It seemed normal. It seemed peaceful. Boomer had some Euro. Buttercup didn't really care at this point how he got it. They were able to get some breakfast from a nice little pub. The meal had been only average, but Buttercup still enjoyed it. She got along surprisingly well with the blue boy.

"I know this sounds mean," Buttercup began, "But you're a lot smarter than I thought you would be."

Boomer laughed, almost spilling his coffee, "Thanks, I guess. I'm not really that smart, though. I just try and keep my little family together. Sometimes I do that with a joke, more often with some bandages." His eyes went downcast, "especially these days."

Buttercup could see the genuine sadness in his look. She wanted to cheer him up, but didn't know how. _Bubbles would know, _she thought. A depressed look came over her face as well. They sat at their little table quietly, occasionally sipping their coffee. Eventually Buttercup looked at Boomer and asked, "Why . . . What is different about Brick?"

Boomer looked shocked, "What?"

"Something's different about him. I don't just mean that his personality has changed. He _is _different now. Like, he's not even the same species as before."

Boomer tried to take another sip of his drink, his hands shaking ever so slightly, "I didn't think anyone besides myself or Butch would have noticed. Not so quickly anyways."

"Something happened to him, didn't it?" Buttercup looked worried. Part for Boomer, part for Brick.

Boomer nodded his head slightly, "I don't know what happened, but it was sudden. I think it was two years ago. We, me, Butch and Brick, we were in Florida. Just hanging out by the beach. Just hanging out. Nothing special. No fighting. No crime. Just checking out ladies and enjoying the sun. It was nighttime. We had a few beers, you know, nothing crazy, just having fun." Boomer took a drink, "I don't know why he did it, but Brick, he was looking up into the night sky, and he just took off. Gone before Butch or I even realized what had happened.

"He was gone for two weeks. We had no idea where he went, so we just waited for him, hoping he would come back. It wasn't so bad. It was summer. The beaches were great. It was easy for Butch and I to find something fun to do. We were worried. Brick's our brother after all, but we knew there wasn't much out there that could really hurt him. Especially since you and you sisters were laying low. We were still worried though.

"He was bald when he came back." as he said this, Boomer ran a hand across his own head, "We laughed at first when we saw him, but once he got closer we could see." Boomer shuddered, "He was changed. Things were different then." Boomer suddenly stopped speaking.

Buttercup stared at Boomer. He was pale, and he eyes wouldn't meet hers. "There's something you're not telling me," she said.

Boomer nodded slowly.

"What happened, Boomer?"

Boomer kept his eyes down, "He . . . destroyed the town."

Buttercup looked confused, "That can't be right. I would have heard about that. Someone with super powers destroying an American town? It would have been all over the news. Unless . . . " Buttercup sucked in a breath sharply. She remembered a news story she had heard about two years ago. A Florida coast town was almost wiped off the map by a freak storm. It had come out of nowhere, there were almost no survivors.

"Unless it looked like a natural disaster," Boomer finished for her, "I don't know how he did it, but Brick just . . . summoned a storm. I couldn't do anything to stop him." Boomer tried to drink more of his coffee, but there was nothing left in the cup.

"Why did he do it?" Buttercup asked.

Boomer shrugged, "The only reason I can come up with is that he just wanted to prove that he could."

Buttercup looked down. How long had it been since she felt ashamed of her actions? The last time was when she looked poor Mrs. Gleason in the face all those years ago. She had almost forgotten the promise she made to herself as a teenager; never to get into another fight, never make rash decisions. Both promises broken.

"You remind me of him," Boomer said, "Butch too, but there's more Brick in you, I think."

"Don't say that," she whispered, "Don't."

Silence again.

"It's a good thing we used up all our fun talking points early on in the day."

Buttercup forced a laugh, "Let's get out of here."

They paid the bill and exited.

Buttercup was still amazed at how normal this little town seemed. It was as though they didn't even notice when the Governments fell. It made the memories of the collapse seem more like a dream than reality. The air even smelled better here.

A feeling began falling on her in waves. Buttercup didn't know what it meant. It made her dizzy momentarily. The bottom half of her stomach seemed to grow heavier.

"Are you okay?" Boomer asked.

"I don't know . . . I think something's about to happen."

A whirlwind kicked up, heading from the south. It was charging towards them fast. Faster than just about anything Buttercup had ever seen. The dust spread across the town, reducing visibility to almost zero. Most people ran inside their homes. Buttercup and Boomer tried to both shield their eyes and still look forward at the same time. Somewhere in the dust was a sound like stampeding bulls.

The noise stopped. A few seconds later the dust had cleared. Buttercup saw standing in the middle of the street a stranger. He wore a pair of loose cargo pants, and a worn out, leather airman's jacket. His hair was blond, blown back away from his face. He had dull brown eyes.

"Welly welly welly well!" he said, "Look who I've found trouncing around in my own backyard!"

"You got dust in my shoes," Boomer began patting himself off.

"Sorry, Bro," the man said "Bro" as though it were an offense, "but me and the girlie need to have some words with one another, so why don' you step on back before I return your whole body to the dust."

Boomer looked confused. He turned to Buttercup, "Was I supposed to be threatened by that?" he turned back to the man and shouted, "Am I supposed to be threatened?"

The man dropped his face in his hand, "Oi, why do I bother with the words? They're a coward's tool."

Buttercup's eyes never left the man, nor did she blink. Despite this, the man disappeared. As his body vanished it simultaneously seemed to reappear directly in front of Boomer. By the time Buttercup had turned her head, Boomer was sent flying backwards. Briefly she was able to see an image of the man. It looked like he had shoulder checked her friend. Buttercup's reaction was one of impulse and immediacy. Her leg arced to the side, the top of her foot aimed to slice a chunk out of the man's side. She was sure she had connected. For a moment it even looked like her leg cut him clean in half. But it had only been a mirage left by a body that had moved to fast to be perceived.

The man was standing back where Buttercup had first seen him, several feet away, "Dom's my name, though most call me by my more eccentric _Nom De guerre _Kill O Meter." Kill O Meter did a small curtsy, "They call me that on account of I run really fast, I'm from England, and I enjoy a good killing every now and again. 'Fraid you're next on the kill list, my sweet," he added as an afterthought, "And just to get a good workout, I'm gonna kill your boyfriend, too."

Buttercup held up her pointer and middle finger, back of her hand facing Kill O Meter. She was unaware that in Britain this was an insult, "Two things. One: why would you bother to introduce yourself if your plan all along was to kill me? It's not like I'm gonna remember after I'm dead." Kill O Meter was taken aback, "And two: he's not my boyfriend. He's my backup."

From behind Buttercup came a blast of red light. It went over her shoulder on its way to hit Kill O Meter directly in the face, but at the last moment the baddie moved to the side, just enough for the beams to go harmlessly past.

"That almost singed my chin hair off!" Kill O Meter looked amazed at the spot he had just been standing in, "You must be one o' those Rowdy watchacallits. I guess we was right in assuming you all teamed up."

Boomer was up on his feet now, or really, floating with his feet just off the ground. He came up besides Buttercup, "She was able to kick your buddy's ass all be her lonesome! You really think you'll be able to take on the two of us?"

"I saw what you did to Guff! I was very impressed. But he's a big target, and slower than a legless cow. I don't have to worry about you hitting me." He was gone. Both Buttercup and Boomer felt arms wrap gently around their shoulders. Kill O Meter was between and behind them, "You're not even going to see me coming."

Before either could react, Kill O Meter began to spin. Wind was pulled in all around them, filtering upwards as a small, artificial tornado was born. Buttercup and Boomer were tossed out a second later. Before she was even fully back on her feet, Buttercup saw Kill O Meter rushing silently towards her, only to stop an inch from her face and disappear again. A sonic boom knocked her to the ground again as the sound barrier finally caught up with Kill O Meter's movements. A similar thing then happened to Boomer.

Boomer recovered quickly. He began to take off for the sky, thinking that he could attack from the safety of long range. He jumped into the air. Before he got three feet off the ground Kill O Meter had his knees resting on Boomer's shoulders, right hand raised in the sky, "Not gonna be so easy!"

Boomer grabbed Kill O Meter's legs, ready to throw the villain off, when something happened. Kill O Meter's raised hand began to shake, as though a violent earthquake was passing through his bones. It kept getting faster and faster until the shape of his fingers all melded into a blurry dagger. Faster and faster, the sound of a dentist's drill filling the air. The vibrating hand pressed into the side of Boomer's face. It felt like being pushed up against a tire rolling full speed.

Boomer let out a shocked scream, small in duration. Buttercup fired her heat vision. Kill O Meter had his back to her, but right before the attack connected he was gone again; moved around behind Boomer, and aligned the Rowdyruff with the beams. Boomer was struck in the shoulder.

"Sorry!" Buttercup yelled.

A vacuous whirlwind began building up towards Buttercup. Flashes of Kill O Meter's spinning body could be seen, but the blades of wind, colored by dirt, kept collapsing in, hiding the man inside. As it got closer to her it grew larger, like a snow ball speeding down a hill.

Buttercup clapped both hand together, causing a shock wave to bloom forward. It distorted the air, knocking all the blades of wind aside. She was expecting Kill O Meter to be hit as well, but there was no sign of him. Then he appeared in front of her, before her hands even had time to pull back. In a split second she was shotgunned with thousands of punches; none hurt individually, but together they created quite the headache.

Buttercup threw out a wide left, twisting her whole body behind the punch. Again it hit nothing. Her body was thrown off balance for a moment. _This would be the perfect time for a counter attack! __where is he?_she thought. Boomer was now getting to his feet, one hand pressed over a very red cheek, anger in his eyes.

Kill O Meter was thirty feet away from them, panting slightly and shaking his hands as though he had just touched something very hot. "Remind me never to do that again!" he yelled, slight pain traveling his vocal chords, "Punching you lot is like punching steel!" His knuckles were bruised.

Buttercup was finally able to get a clear thought through her head. She realized that the battle thus far had only lasted a few seconds, though it felt much longer. She also figured that she could probably come close to matching Kill O Meter in speed, but only in a straight line. You could cut a dime in half and Kill O Meter would still be able to turn on it, that was his real power. Quick reactions.

A soft, low chuckle passed between Kill O Meter's lips. He was gone. _Fool me once, _thought Buttercup, _I'll have to apologize to Boomer later._

Without saying anything, before she even saw where Kill O Meter was going to pop up next, Buttercup slammed her fist into the ground. Everything within a twenty foot radius of her exploded upwards. Boomer shielded his face, surprised eyes trained on the Powerpuff. Buttercup wasted no time. She spotted Kill O Meter floating in the air, his feet kicking wildly, vainly looking for any sort of traction. He no doubt saw her coming, but there was nothing he could do. Buttercup raised a single tight fist above her head. She left it there just a moment. Just long enough so that Kill O Meter could see he was beaten. She smiled.

The fist dropped like a pendulum. Buttercup hardly had to put any force behind it. She smashed his nose, twisting Kill O Meter's body so that the back of his head slammed the ground. It wasn't enough to kill him, but he was thoroughly unconscious.

"A little warning next time would be stellar," Boomer said, hand back to covering his face.

"No time, Boomboom." Buttercup chuckled.

Boomer grinned back, "What do you want to do with him?"

She picked up the prone body. Blood seeped from his nose like melted candle wax, "I guess we'll take him with us. We can ask him some questions once he wakes up." She began to walk off.

"Where are we going" Boomer asked.

Buttercup brought her eyes around to stare green into him, "Africa."

**A/N: Tell me what you think, if you thought anything at all. I feel that the fight scene in this chapter turned out far better than the one in last. The fight between Buttercup and Brick just seemed kinda boring to me . . . oh well. Again, might be a while before the next update. Don't worry, though. I'll see this through to the end.**


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